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by Darrell Sifford
J rv looten's chin was square with
determination. It jutted de
fiantly below a nose that tailed
off a little to the. left. Pale green
eyes, narrowed to tiny slits, burned
beneath a shock of unruly hair.
Irv brushed back a lock and sur
veyed the dimly lit waiting room.
His shoulders were hunched and his
left hand was jammed deep into the
pocket of a double-breasted suit.
He puffed nervously on a cigarette
and looked at his wrist watch. It was
7:30 P. M. Any moment now the big
oak-paneled door over there would
open and Mr. Nicholas, the board of
education president, would beckon
solemnly to him.
Then Irv would go in to face the
wolves for the third time in three
years. He removed his hand from his
pocket and studied the frayed cuff.
Back in college it would have been
funny Irv Looten, football star, in
a tattered suit.
But now Irv could see no humor.
He was wearing his Sunday best.
Irv ground his cigarette into an
ash tray and sat down, crossing his
long limbs. "Maybe the third time
will be a charm," he thought happily
"They can't turn down my request
for a raise forever!"
The door opened abruptly and
Mr. Nicholas, bald head glistening,
cleared his throat. "This way, please,
Mr. Looten."
The voice was coldly formal, dis
ciplined, unsmiling. Irv walked in
side the board room, his eyes squint
ing under the glare of bright lights.
His shoes, scuffed at the toes, slid
through piles of wine-colored carpet.
Irv stopped beside Mr. Nicholas at
the head of the table. He surveyed
his opponents for tonight's big game.
Bald heads apparently were the or
der of the day. Irv counted five
among the eight board members.
Mr. Nicholas cleared his throat
and spoke with cool authority:
"Board members, this is Mr. Looten,
our high-school football coach."
The members nodded. It was a
friendly enough reception, Irv
thought. Still he felt outnumbered.
Again Mr. . Nicholas, ramrod
straight and red-faced, coughed for
attention. "As you know, Mr. Looten
has been in the system for three sea
sons now. And although I'm no foot
ball fan, I must say his teams have
compiled a unique record one that
probably isn't equaled anywhere in
the entire state!"
Irv thought he recognized a smile
from beneath one of the bare scalps.
But he wasn't sure. Anyway, it was
a hopeful sign.
"Now what we must weigh are the
merits of that record," Mr. Nicholas
said. "Some say it is giving our
school a black eye. Others say it
means we must shift emphasis in our
athletic program."
Irv squirmed uneasily. Why didn't
Nicholas let him speak?
"Now as I said before, I'm no foot-
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